


If My Heart Can Take It

by HeyYousGuys



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Lots of Crying In This One, M/M, Memories of Those Lost in the Battle of Hogwarts, brief mentions of trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 13:22:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20192980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyYousGuys/pseuds/HeyYousGuys
Summary: A week into 8th year, Draco returns to Hogwarts to finish his education, a mandatory part of this punishment after the war. The only spot left for him in the 8th year dormitory is the bunk underneath Harry's. Already accustomed to hearing the other 8th years screaming from nightmares at night, Harry never thought Draco's screams would be the most gut wrenching of all. When an offer to comfort him turns into a nightly routine of sharing a bed, how much longer will Harry be able to stand it once he realizes just how much he enjoys these moments with Draco?





	If My Heart Can Take It

“Hey,” Harry said shyly, quickly looking down so as not to seem threatening in any way. 

“Hey,” came the sullen, weak reply. 

“Mcgonagall asked me to show you to the dorms… You know… since 8th years are in their own space.” There was a long pause. “Away from the others, I mean,” Harry added needlessly. 

“Oh. Okay,” came Malfoy’s whispered reply. 

It was awkward. And difficult. And heart-wrenching. Seeing each other again, after everything that had happened in May. What were they meant to say to one another? ‘Thanks for saving my life?’, ‘Sorry you got caught up in all this mess against your own will?’, ‘Glad you didn’t die?’. Given Malfoy’s three month stint in Azkaban and Harry’s three months of little sleep due to nightmares and a need to set the castle to rights again, there wasn’t really anything that either could say that would be appropriate. ‘I’m sorry you’re still suffering’ might be the closest thing to correct in this situation, but neither needed the reminder that they were both still so broken from the war. 

Harry turned on his heel and silently lead Malfoy to the third floor room that had been designated as the 8th year dormitory. Really, it wasn’t a dormitory. Not in the same way that the house dormitories were dormitories. This was just a room, really, with 4 bunk beds for the 8 returning students to sleep on, two small bathrooms, and a few wardrobes and trunks to store their things. No house decorations, no common room, no games or cards. It was pitiful, really, and Harry felt guilty leading Malfoy into it under the pretense that it was a “dorm”. 

As they reached the door, Harry reached up, as though to put his hand to it. He hesitated, feeling the sudden need to explain this. “It’s spelled to recognize our handprints,” Harry explained. “Mcgonagall, she didn’t think we… well, there was no password that seemed appropriate given… well, you know…” His voice trailed off and he looked at his shoes. 

“Yeah,” Malfoy agreed, barely audible. 

“Look, I should warn you,” Harry turned around and faced Malfoy full-on. “It’s not much of a dorm. It’s not much of a room, really. The 7 of us already here, we tried to make it work. We’re trying, I mean. It’s a tight space and the nights are awful, with a lot of screaming. And not all of us get along all the time, considering… well, you know… but we’re trying to make amends. And… so…” Harry paused and waited for Malfoy to look up. When he finally made eye contact, Harry stuck out his hand. “I’m Harry, it’s nice to meet you.”

Malfoy’s eyes went wide. He became as tense as a coiled snake about to strike. Harry thought about pulling his hand back, but then he saw Malfoy shake his head in defeat and offer his hand. He shook Harry’s hand weakly. 

“Should’ve done that 7 years ago, scarhead,” Malfoy said without malice. 

“I suppose so,” Harry replied, smiling weakly. Malfoy smiled back half-heartedly before releasing Harry’s hand and clutching his robes like they would fall away if he let go. He’d lost so much weight in prison that Harry supposed they actually might. 

He almost asked why Malfoy hadn’t bought new robes, robes that fit him, but then he remembered that there was no one to buy robes for him, his parents both still being in Azkaban. Harry doubted Malfoy was in the right headspace to go shopping on his own. Hell, it had taken him a week to realize that it was September and he ought to get to Hogwarts and finish his education, a mandatory part of his probation. 

Harry turned back to the door and placed his palm against it. It opened slowly to reveal a rather plain room. As everyone else was down in the Great Hall having dinner, that left only Harry and Malfoy in the room. 

Harry awkwardly shuffled over to his bunk and pointed to the bottom bed. “That’s you, there,” he explained. “I’ve got the top one.” Luna and Neville share this one on our left, Ron and Hermione in that one on the right, and Pansy and Blaise in that one over there.” On the last one, Harry indicated the bed furthest from his own, separated from all of the other beds. They hadn’t meant to segregate the Slytherins, it had just sort of… happened. But now, seeing what it must look like to Malfoy, he felt a bit guilty. 

“Don’t look so chagrined, Potter,” Malfoy spoke up, “I doubt Pansy would’ve wanted to sleep so close to the rest of you.”

“She isn’t like… she’s trying, Malfoy. She’s trying to be a better person.” Harry didn’t know why he felt the need to come to the defense of Pansy of all people. While it was true that she was trying, and she had apologized for many things, they still hadn’t addressed that moment in the Great Hall during the Battle. The moment Pansy had tried to turn Harry over to Voldemort. Harry wasn’t sure they’d ever be comfortable enough to discuss it. 

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Malfoy interrupted Harry’s train of thought. “I meant… she wrote me a lot of letters while I was… where I was. She… she regrets it, you know. What she did. But she’s probably too proud to tell you. She’s probably rather embarrassed about it all. And not just because we lost. But because-”

“You didn’t lose!” Harry cut him off. “You weren’t on his side! You were all kids, for Merlin’s sake! We all were! Still are, really! You were caught in the middle of… oh, bollocks, I’ve rehearsed this a million times in my own head but it’s coming out all wrong.” Harry took a steadying breath and looked Malfoy confidently in the eye. “I want you to really listen, Draco.” He heard Malfoy’s gasp at the use of his given name but chose to ignore it. “I forgive you. All three of you. In Blaise’s case, there was nothing really to forgive. He retreated and didn’t fight. In Pansy’s case, she was just scared. She didn’t want to be caught in the middle of a war, so she did what she thought would end it quickly. I don’t think she really meant me any harm. You…” he paused, unable to look at Malfoy as he said what he needed to say, “You’re a little more complicated.”

“Harry, don’t!” Malfoy begged, not wanting to rehash horrible memories. 

“I just need to say it once and you need to hear it,” Harry responded forcefully. “I don’t blame you. You got caught in the middle and did what you had to do to survive. We’re two sides of the same coin, you and I. Neither of us wanted the fate that the adults in our lives handed us. We both tried so hard to please the father figure in our lives, the man who was just using us as a means to their own end. Neither of us wanted any part of this mess. But we did what we had to do, even when we didn’t want to do any of it. You saved my life, Draco. I don’t forget these things.” 

“You saved mine, too!” Malfoy butted in, not letting Harry forget that they were even. 

“And your mother saved me as well. Without the Malfoys, I wouldn’t have defeated Voldemort.” Draco flinched at the name, as though it pained him greatly to hear it. “I’m sorry,” Harry reacted. “I didn’t mean to… I meant, ‘you know who’. Sorry. I won’t use his name again.” 

“It’s… fine… I have to get used to it. It’s not like I’ll never hear it again.” Malfoy shrugged weakly. 

“Still… I won’t be the one to subject you to it,” Harry promised him. “But what I was trying to say is that I wouldn’t be here without you and your mother. And I’m so grateful to you both for that. So, please, don’t shy away from me or feel like you have to avoid me altogether. We are roommates now, after all. And, perhaps, one day, we might… well, maybe we could be friends?” Harry knew he sounded pathetic. He hadn’t realized it until he said it out loud, but he almost needed Malfoy’s friendship. He knew, somehow, that it would be part of the healing process, for them both. Harry didn’t want to see Malfoy suffering as he was. He wanted them to get past this awkward part and become friends. Maybe they would never be best friends. But they could certainly be more than they were now. 

“Friends? With me?” Malfoy looked down at the ground, deflating. “I don’t deserve you.” 

“But you do!” Harry protested. “Please, Draco! I’m asking you, begging you: don’t hide from me, please. Maybe we’ll never be best friends and confidantes, but we could be acquaintances. We could talk about… things. We both know what the other went through. It might be easier to help deal with… the bad things… if we discuss them with each other. Plus, I need all the help I can get in Potions. Having your homework to copy from wouldn’t be so bad,” Harry joked, desperately needing to lighten the mood. 

“Harry Bloody Potter, academic cheater! I should have known!” Malfoy joked. They both laughed, though the joke really wasn’t very funny. But they both needed that release. Draco looked up, took a deep breath, and stuck out his hand. Harry shook his hand with confidence. 

“Friends?” Harry inquired.

“Friends.” Draco replied. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

After Harry had shown Draco to the 8th year table in the Great Hall, a table set off by itself for privacy reasons, he expected Draco to sit with Blaise and Pansy. Instead, Draco plopped down between Luna and Ron. Ron, at first, looked furious. But Hermione’s hand on his arm stopped him from doing or saying anything rude. 

“Luna,” Draco took a shaky breath. “I’m so sorry! For everything you endured while prisoner at my house.” 

Luna looked at him in her innocent way, something she had somehow retained through the war, bless her. “Why are you apologizing, Draco? You never hurt me. And it was very clear that you hated what your aunt and father did to me. I could see it in your eyes. And in your aura. I think you had it worse than me there!” 

“I… what? No… I was fine.” Draco tried to protest. But Luna, being her darling self, was not having any of it. 

“But you weren’t. I could see that. You were miserable. And quite ill from it all, I might add. You were definitely being tortured, too. Maybe not in the same way as me, but you were.” She took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, as though trying to communicate that he was now safe. 

“I…” Draco smiled shyly. “Thank you, Luna.” 

“You’re welcome, Draco.” She released his hand and grabbed a basket of bread. “Croissant?” She asked, as though this were just a normal day and they were two friends having a normal dinner. 

“No, thank you. I have to-” Draco turned away from Luna and looked guiltily at Ron. “Weas- umm… I mean… Ron…” he paused, waiting to see how Ron would react. Judging by Hermione’s nails now digging into Ron’s arm, he was not on the verge of calm politeness. “I’m sorry. For many things, really. I have never been kind to you or given you reason to trust me. But, for what it’s worth, any man who can so closely befriend the noble Harry and the formative Hermione must be a worthy man indeed. And, so, my apologies.” He extended his hand and waited. 

Several tense moments passed before Ron muttered, “Apology accepted,” without bothering to even acknowledge Draco’s hand. 

‘Well, it’s a start,’ Harry thought to himself. 

“Neville, I-” Draco began, turning toward the man. 

“Water under the bridge, mate. We’re fine,” Neville smiled politely and reached out to shake Draco’s hand. 

“Well, Draco, that’s more than I ever thought you’d do,” Pansy commented. “Looks like I owe Blaise 20 galleons.” She frowned comically, conveying that she wasn’t as put out it by it as she seemed. 

Blaise just chuckled and replied, “Keep it, Pans. We’ve yet to settle other bets. I’m sure I’ll owe you at some point.”

“What other bets?” Draco perked up slightly, almost seeming like his old self again. Harry smiled, glad to see that he wasn’t entirely broken. 

“None yet,” Blaise said, scooping a fork full of potatoes. “But I’m sure there will be some. You know how we Slytherins love to bet!” He put the forkful of food in his mouth, effectively ending the discussion on betting. Harry wondered what type of things they might be betting on and if they’d include the other 8th years in future bets, but he didn’t ask. He figured he’d find out all in good time. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The first night was rough. The entire week had been rough, of course. But they had all gotten used to each other’s screams and whimpers and cries for help as they slept. What they hadn’t adjusted to, yet, were Draco’s screams. Utterly terrifying, gut-churning howls of sheer pain. 

Harry woke with a start, wand clutched tightly in his hand, ready to hex anyone who might have come to kill them. He relaxed for a moment when he realized where they were and that the war was over. But his insides clenched again as he heard another shout of torment from the bed below his. He cast a Muffliato, so as not to wake up any of the others. He leaned his head over the side to see Draco, ghost-white, sweating, his whole body tensed. Harry tried to reach down to shake Draco, but realized it wouldn’t be safe to lean that far over the side of the bed. So he hurriedly climbed down and rushed over to Draco’s side. 

“Draco!” Harry put his hand on Draco’s shoulder and shook him gently, trying to ease him out of the nightmare. He nearly screamed himself when Draco’s hand shot up and clamped onto Harry’s wrist so tightly that it stung. Draco’s eyes flew open and remained wide and terrified. He sucked in several gasps of air, as though he had been drowning. 

As soon as he realized where he was and who was in front of him, he released Harry’s wrist and laid back, trying desperately to calm himself. Harry watched for a few moments as Draco’s eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings and trying to reassure himself that he was safe. His eyes landed on Harry and then quickly looked away. 

“I’m sorry, Potter. I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered. It was evident that his walls were up and he was guarding himself. For some reason he couldn’t quite understand, Harry didn’t want Draco to close himself off. He wanted Draco to let him in, to let him help. 

“It’s fine, Draco,” Harry said gently. “I don’t actually sleep much.” It was only partially true. He slept, rather fitfully, for a few hours each night. It was never quality sleep, but it wasn’t like it he had been lying awake exactly. 

He watched as Draco took several breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. His shaking abated slightly after a minute or so. Harry didn’t know why, but he felt the need to reach out and cup Draco’s cheek, to let him know he was safe and cared for. ‘What on earth?’ Harry thought to himself. ‘Why do I have the impulse to comfort Malfoy, of all people? Tentative friends or not, he’d probably hex me eight ways to Sunday for it!’ 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry asked, at a loss for what else to do. The look Draco shot him said it all: ‘Absolutely not! And what a stupid idea that was! Do you talk about your nightmares?’ Harry ducked his head. “Right. Yeah. Dumb question.” He shook his head, berating himself for even asking, before starting to stand up. 

“Potter- I mean, Harry… don’t go. Please. Could you just… sit there? Until I fall back to sleep?” Draco looked so young and scared, younger than the 11 year old Harry had met in Madame Malkin’s shop all those years ago. “I just… feel safer with you nearby. You killed him, you know. You saved us all from him. Maybe you can save me from the nightmares of him, too?” 

“Of course I’ll sit with you, Draco,” Harry replied, scooting further onto the bed to make himself comfortable. “Do you want me to talk to you or just sit here?” 

“I don’t know,” Draco replied truthfully. Harry hadn’t expected honesty. If he was honest, he expected a snappy retort meant to sting him. That had, after all, been how they had communicated for the first 5 and a half years of knowing one another. Sixth year had changed many things, but it seemed the war and Draco’s imprisonment had changed things even more. 

“Well, I feel weird just sitting here. So I’m going to talk. Let me know if it bothers you, okay?” Harry looked down to see Draco nod before wiggling around to get comfortable. His new position had him nearly pressed against the side of Harry’s leg. It was oddly comforting to have someone this close. Harry hadn’t slept so close to someone since he, Hermione, and Ron’s time spent on the run. While that hadn’t been a safe or nice time by a long shot, it was still a comfort to have someone so close to him. Even if the someone was Draco Malfoy, his former enemy. 

“My aunt and uncle made me cook every meal growing up, once I was old enough to hold a spatula. And, for years, I did so obediently. Always making exactly what they asked. But one day, a classmate of mine at the muggle school I attended told me how he put laxatives into his brother’s food.” Noticing Draco’s confused expression, he explained, “Laxatives are a muggle medicine that makes one have to… well, use the loo. It’s quite inconvenient and can be painful if given in high enough doses. It’s meant to relieve constipation, if you get what I mean.” 

“Yes, I rather think I do,” Draco commented dryly. “Go on, then. He put this muggle medicine into his brother’s food and then what?” 

“Well, after he told me how it affected his brother, I had an idea. What if I put it in my family’s food one day for revenge?” 

“Why would you need revenge?” Draco interrupted. 

“Oh… right… I forgot that you don’t know…” Harry’s voice trailed off. He glanced at Ron and Hermione, whom he usually shared these types of stories with. It had been so long since he’d had to make a new friend, a genuine close friend, that he forgot that he’d have to explain his past in order for Draco to understand this story. “Best not touch on that part of my life when you’re trying to get away from nightmares. I’ll finish that story another time, after I’m able to explain things to you. For now, let’s move on to a different story…” 

As Harry began regaling Draco with a funny story about the time the twins transfigured Ginny’s stuffed bear into a real, albeit tiny, roaring lion, Harry felt a sudden pang of grief. Fred. He hadn’t realized, when he’d began telling the story, that talking about Fred would bring it all back. 

“Best not to touch on that part of your life either, eh?” Draco asked kindly. 

“Best not,” Harry agreed. He sighed heavily and tried to best to hold back tears, not something easily doable in his exhausted state. 

“Make up a story then!” Draco offered kindly. 

“Pardon?” 

“Make up a story! Invent one! Tell me about the Quidditch game you won when you played against Puddlemeer United in a charity match! Or the time Hagrid talked the giant squid into letting you ride around underwater on him, with appropriate oxygen, of course.” 

Harry smiled down at Draco. “Who knew you were so imaginative?!”

“My other dormmates all knew. I would make up fantastical stories and keep them on the edge of their seats.” He smiled back up at Harry. Something shifted between them. Maybe they were beginning to trust one another, maybe they were beginning to become friends. Whatever it was, Harry liked it far better than the petty rivalry they’d always had. 

“Well then why don’t you tell the story whilst I fall asleep?” He inquired, nudging Draco to scoot over so he could lie down beside him. 

“That’s not fair!” Draco mock-pouted. “I was the one having the nightmare. You were the one who was supposed to be doing the comforting. It’s not my fault if you’re rubbish at making up stories!” Harry elbowed Draco lightly, to get back at him for the teasing. 

“Fine. I’ll try. But I can’t promise I’ll be any good at it!” Harry rolled over to face Draco. Even though he’d cast Muffliato, he still felt the need to whisper, just in case their dormmates woke up. “Once upon time, there was a young boy named Harry.” 

“That’s not very imaginative!” Draco chided him. 

“Hush up or I won’t finish the story!” Harry kidded back. Draco rolled his eyes, but closed his mouth and nodded. “Harry had always lived in the muggle world,” Harry continued, “with a muggle aunt, uncle, and cousin who hated him and treated him poorly. He was made to live in a cupboard under the stairs and serve his family like a house elf. Until one day, one lovely day, when a post owl arrived. 

“Harry had never seen an owl in person before, only in books. The owl tried to deliver a letter addressed to Harry, but his family wouldn’t have it. They snatched the letter away and refused to let the young boy read it. More letters came, with more owls, but still the family refused to let Harry have his post. More letters arrived, until the home was beginning to fill with them. And, still, his family would not allow Harry to read his letter. It was, quite honestly, ridiculously childish. Though, at the time, it was infuriating for poor Harry.

“Finally, fed up with so many letters flying into their home, the family absconded to a remote island. Satisfied that no post owl would find them there, the family spent Harry’s 11th birthday away from everyone else. Harry had never had a birthday party, though his cousin had been given a lavish party every year, so he didn’t expect one this year either. 11, in the muggle world, doesn’t mean anything special anyway. 

“But, that night, just after Harry had drawn a birthday cake in the dirt and blew out the imaginary candles, a loud banging was heard on the door. As his family would never answer such a scary bang, the door was eventually knocked down. And in came the largest man Harry had even seen! Harry would later learn that this man was half-giant. But, at the time, Harry thought giants only existed in fictional fairy stories. The man presented Harry with his letter, hand-delivered, and informed the flummoxed boy that he was, in fact, a wizard. Again, Harry thought that these only existed in fairy stories. Wizards couldn’t possibly be real! 

“But, as it turned out, his aunt and uncle had known what he was and they had shielded him from all things magical.” 

“You really didn’t know?!” Draco interrupted, incredulous. 

“No. Not at all. Hagrid busting down the door and telling me I was a wizard was the first time I’d heard of any of it being real!” Harry confided. He had told a few people this, but Draco was the first person outside of his close knit friends-that-he-considered-family that he had ever told this to. 

“I can’t even fathom this, Harry! I grew up, my whole life, with stories of you! Of course, tainted through my father’s mind, they were always of how awful you were. But I envied you! The famous Harry Potter, who was so magical that he had nearly eliminated…,” Draco paused, tense, as he tried to think of how to refer to Voldemort without saying anything about him, “that man, even though he was a baby. I thought you had to be the greatest, most powerful wizard who ever lived! I had this fantasy in my head of befriending you and being so beloved by our peers because I was best friends with the great Harry Potter! And you were so powerful that you’d protect me from my father and the emotional abuse I suffered at his hands. I had our whole lives planned out, you and I. We would be best mates forever and I would be fine because I had you. And my father would fear to hurt me in any way, because he knew you’d always protect me. But then… then we…”

“But then we met…and I rejected you.” Harry concluded sadly. 

“Yeah,” Draco whispered, eyes sullen. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Harry apologized. Something both of them had been doing a lot today. 

“For what it’s worth, I was a snooty brat, mimicking the horrible things my father said. It was a defense mechanism, really. Ingrained in me. Parrot father’s beliefs and I would be safe. I was just so used to it that I didn’t realize how badly it would backfire outside of the Manor.” Draco paused and studied Harry’s expression closely. Harry waited, unguarded and open, to see what conclusion Draco would draw. “I wish I could go back and change it.” 

“I wish you could, too,” Harry whispered back. They laid there, facing one another, for several long moments. 

Finally, Draco cracked a smile, the first smile of the day, and shook his head. “Famous Harry Potter didn’t even know magic was real! Wow! That’s just… so bizarre!” 

“Imagine how bizarre the magical world seemed to me that very first day!” Harry commented, smiling at Draco. 

“I can’t imagine!” Draco laughed quietly. 

“But you have such a good imagination, Draco!” Harry teased. 

“Shut up, Potter!” Draco joked. 

“Make me, Malfoy,” Harry taunted back. 

The two silently laughed at the mockery of their former rivalry. While Harry wasn’t glad for the war or Malfoy’s term in Azkaban, he was glad that things had changed and they could be friends. ‘I imagine we should have been great friends, under other circumstances,’ he thought to himself.

After a few moments, they both settled quietly into a peaceful rest. Sleep would probably come easier now, since they had lightened the mood and forgotten the nightmares that had just been plaguing Draco. 

“Night, Harry,” Draco said, sleepy and content for the moment. 

“Do you want me to return to my bed?” Harry asked, getting ready to move. 

“No! Please!” Draco hurriedly grabbed at his wrist, not so tightly this time. “I feel safer with you nearby. Please, if you don’t mind, stay here tonight?” 

“What will the others think?” Harry glanced uneasily over his shoulder, where some of the others were restless with nightmares while others slept soundly. 

“Sod what they think!” Malfoy replied honestly. “But, if it worries you, I’ll cast a disillusionment charm. They’ll never know.”

“I would like that, yeah,” Harry responded, smiling. “You have no idea what kind of conclusions Hermione might draw if she sees us sleeping in the same bed.”

“Pansy, too,” Draco laughed. He pulled his wand out from under his pillow and silently cast the charm. “There,” he said, tucking his wand away, “now none of our dormmates will be any the wiser.”

“Luna will,” Harry smirked, “but she won’t judge us or jump to conclusions.” 

“Bless that girl!” Draco commented, smiling fondly at Luna in the next bed over. 

“Agreed!” Harry chimed in, snuggling under the covers and closing his eyes. “Good night, Draco.”

“Night, Harry.” 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Neither of them had intended for the bed-sharing to become a regular thing. Yet, slowly, it did. 

The second night that Malfoy was at Hogwarts, Harry had climbed up to his own bed as usual. However, less than an hour later, he heard a huff from below, followed by Malfoy casting another muffliato and disillusionment charm, before popping his head up to Harry’s bed and whispering, “Harry? Please?” He looked so meek and broken that Harry couldn’t resist. He climbed down and joined Malfoy and, like the previous night, talked until they fell asleep. 

The third night, Harry popped his head into Malfoy’s bunk, eyebrows raised in question, before even bothering to climb up to his own. Draco cast their usual charms again and Harry slid in beside his new friend. 

From there on out, Harry didn’t even bother to ask. He just climbed right in, one of them casting the correct charms, and laid on what he’d come to consider “his” side of the bed. After a month of this, it didn’t even feel odd to either of them anymore. They stopped questioning it, mainly because the nightmares were fewer and farther between now. But also because it was just comforting to have someone close by. It was nice not being lonely anymore. 

So Harry wasn’t at all surprised, one October evening in the library, when Luna approached him and smiled sweetly. “I think it’s so nice that you two have each other to share a bed with.” 

“I’m not even going to ask how you knew. We always cast a disillusionment charm AND a muffliato. We’re very careful about it.” Harry continued his essay, not even bothering to look up. He wasn’t bothered in the least. He had known that Luna would see through their charms. There was something so indescribable about Luna that always allowed her to see the truth about things. 

“I’m just glad you found someone, Harry. You deserve it after all this time. And it must be hard watching Ron and Hermione comfort each other and being left alone. Which is why I’m so happy that you two found each other.” Luna opened her textbook and began reading.

“Yeah. It’s a good feeling, having a mate who knows what you’re going through and is okay with comforting you.” 

“Mate? Oh! You haven’t told him how you feel yet?” Luna asked innocently, in that direct and non-judgmental way of hers. 

“How I feel?” Harry looked around, glad to see that no one was within earshot. 

“Well, sure. Your aura lights up when he’s around. It’s pretty obvious you’re in love with him.” She smiled sweetly and her eyes became dreamy, perhaps envisioning a love story blossoming between her friends. 

“I… don’t… I’m not,” Harry replied dumbly. 

“Oh… I thought you knew that already. My apologies, Harry.” 

“No. It’s fine. You don’t need to apologize, Luna. It’s just… well… I’m not in love with him. I can’t be. He’d never… I mean, he hates me. Always has,” Harry spluttered. 

“I don’t think people invite people they hate to sleep with them every night,” she mused, giving Harry an odd look. Harry felt like Luna was looking right through him, down to his very soul. To a secret he’d kept locked away, even from himself, for years. He tried not to think about it too hard. But, from time to time, it always crept up in his thoughts. He squelched it back down and pretended like he didn’t feel that way. It was easy to do when he was so focused on staying alive and defeating Voldemort and protecting his loved ones. But here, in the library, with Luna looking at him like that, Harry knew the truth: he loved Draco. 

“Oh, shite!” Harry murmured under his breath. 

“Are you okay, Harry?” Luna inquired genuinely, as though she hadn’t just caused Harry to confront his most life-shattering revelation yet. 

“I…,” he looked up into her eyes, his own eyes wide with wonderment, “I love him!” 

“I know,” she responded matter-of-factly. 

“Luna, I have to go,” Harry stood up and bolted from the library. 

“I’ll bring your things back to the dorm,” she called after him before he exited. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Harry found himself next to the lake, looking across it to Dumbledore’s tomb. He leaned back against a tree that really didn’t look like it would hold his weight and watched some bubbles rise up from the depths below.

He had no idea what to do. He couldn’t tell Draco that he was in love with him. That would ruin this precarious new friendship they had. And Harry craved Draco’s friendship more than air. He loved their nights spent together, lying close and talking about everything or nothing at all. He loved having Draco so close, usually pressed up against his side. 

But now… now he didn’t know how to act around Draco. He surely couldn’t share a bed with him anymore! Not now that he knew he wanted more than just lying beside one another. But he couldn’t sleep in his own bed and leave Draco to suffer through nightmares. And it’s not like he could talk to Draco about this and explain why he was suddenly so weird about sharing a bed. He’d just have to suck it up and pretend to be fine. 

He was Harry bloody Potter, for Merlin’s sake. He’d been through worse! Though, in comparison, hunting down horcruxes and defeating Voldemort felt like a walk in the park compared to trying to hide his feelings. He was a rubbish liar! Malfoy would know. And their friendship would be ruined and Harry would be alone. Again. 

He slumped against the tree and sulked like a child. 

Eventually, he heard footsteps approaching but he didn’t bother to look to see who it was. Probably another younger student, wanting to talk to the great Harry Potter. McGonagall had made it very clear that none of the 8th years were to be treated like celebrities. They were to be left alone and not bothered. But, this far away from the castle, Harry guessed that some kid figured they’d seize their chance. 

He was shocked when Neville sat down a few feet away and said nothing. Just sat silently and stared out at the lake along with Harry. Gods, it was so lovely to have a friend who didn’t press you for information! Whom you could sit alongside and enjoy the quiet of the evening. 

After a few minutes, Harry decided that he could trust Neville with this secret. Luna already knew, but it was hard to get good advice from her sometimes. And he could never tell Ron or Hermione this! They’d go absolutely mental. And it’s not like he would ever confide in Blaise or Pansy about anything. But Neville. Neville he could trust. 

“Hey, Nev?” He still didn’t look at him, afraid it would shatter his courage. 

“Yeah, Harry?” 

“Have you ever had feelings for anyone?” Harry tried to make it sound nonchalant. He only marginally succeeded. 

“Absolutely,” Neville replied evenly. “Still do. Have for years.” 

“Oh,” Harry wasn’t sure what to say to that. He didn’t expect Neville to know exactly how he felt. 

“It’s just… with the war and everything… there was never a right time to tell her. And what if she died fighting? You know? I couldn’t bear to lose her. So I just… pretended like it didn’t happen. Like I didn’t feel… the way I feel.” 

“Wow! We have a lot in common, mate,” Harry commented lightly. 

“Yeah?” Neville said, turning to face him for the first time. 

“Yeah. Mine’s a little… different situation than yours sounds. But still quite similar.” Harry chuckled lightly. 

“We had our childhoods stolen from us, Harry. Especially you! You more than anyone, really. But we all did. We grew up too fast and we lived too hard. It sucked, honestly.” Neville laughed. Harry joined him. Neville was right. It did suck! Even if that was the least eloquent way of describing it. 

They sat in silence, staring out at the lake, for a few more minutes before Neville spoke up again. “Do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. But I promise you, I’m very good at keeping secrets. And I would never betray you, Harry.” 

“Oh, trust me, I know that, Nev! You’ve proven that time and time again! You’re a very loyal friend, mate,” Harry smiled over at him and Neville smiled back. “And, yeah… I think I do want to talk about it. It’s just… try not to look too disgusted when I say it, eh?” 

Neville chuckled before commenting, “It can’t possibly be bad enough for me to be disgusted.” 

“Well, I’m used to confiding in Ron.” 

“He is a tad overdramatic, isn’t he?” Neville teased. 

“He would be about this. Besides, I don’t want to spoil his romance with Hermione by whinging about my unrequited crush.” Harry sighed and adjusted his position on the ground. Neville leaned back on his hands and tipped his head up toward the darkening sky. 

“How do you know it’s unrequited? Have you told her yet?” 

“Umm… him…,” Harry corrected tentatively. 

“Have you told him yet?” Neville corrected himself calmly, as though Harry hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on him. Perhaps Neville had suspected all along that Harry wasn’t straight. Or perhaps he just didn’t care either way. Gods, Harry was so lucky to have such a good friend. 

“No. I couldn’t tell him. He’d kill me.” 

“You sure about that?” Neville asked, turning his head to look at Harry questioningly before returning his gaze to the multi-colored sky. 

“Well… yeah. Up until last spring, I was sure he hated me. But then he refused to identify me at the Manor and I know he knew it was me. He could’ve had me killed right then and there. But he didn’t. And I just… it just threw me for such a loop. And then when he showed up here last month and we made friends… well, I just don’t want to ruin our newfound friendship. It’s tenuous enough as it is without me throwing bloody feelings into the mix.” 

Beside him, Neville chuckled. “I should’ve known!” Harry started to defend himself before realizing that Neville wasn’t judging him. “You two were always obsessed with one another.” 

“Yeah… I suppose we were.” Harry chuckled, glad that his non-confession confession hadn’t upset or disgusted Neville. “So… what do I do, Nev?”

“Well, you have two options here. One, Gryffindor up and just tell him! Or, two, try to pretend like you don’t feel this way and ignore it. Stay friends, if your heart can take it.”

“If my heart can take it?” Harry queried.

“Well, yeah! I mean, take it from me, I’m the expert on not telling your crush you love them and hiding your feelings for ages. It hurts. Often and a lot! And it’s hard! It’s so easy to slip up that you have to constantly be on guard not to say the wrong thing or stare for too long or accidentally grab her by the robes and snog her senseless!” Neville’s normally composed exterior slipped a little at this last confession. “Not that I would without her permission, of course,” he added, though Harry already knew that. Neville was, among many other positive traits, a gentleman. 

“Can I ask?” Harry paused, not wanting to upset Neville. But Neville just laid back on the grass and nodded. “Is it Luna?” 

“Of course it’s Luna!” Neville chuckled, pulling up a blade of grass and studying it closely. “And your crush is Draco!” Neville rolled his eyes, like it had never needed said. 

“I’m thicker than you, smarty pants. I just wanted to be sure.” Harry laughed self-deprecatingly. 

“Well, at least we know there’s another bloke suffering through what we’re going through. So neither of us will be alone. We can be miserable together!” Neville smiled half-heartedly. 

“Yeah. I guess so. It feels good to talk about it, though.” 

“Yeah,” Neville agreed, “it does.” 

“Plus, Luna probably knows,” Harry added. “She knows everything! She’s the one who told me how I feel about Draco! And she was absolutely right! I’d been lying to myself and refusing to think about it and she just came out and said it.” 

“You two have been dancing around each other for years.” Neville commented dryly. 

“Yeah… so have you and Luna, to be honest.” Harry retorted.

“Probably.” 

“She probably feels the same.” Harry prodded.

“Draco probably does, too.” Neville shot back easily. 

“But I’m not going to risk it, just in case he doesn’t. I don’t want him hexing my bollocks off.” They both laughed at this before falling into another short silence. “You should tell her, Nev.”

“You should tell him.” Neville replied, raising one eyebrow in a challenge. 

“But I won’t,” Harry answered.

“Nor will I!”

“Coward!” Harry teased lightly. 

“Takes one to know one, mate,” Neville teased back. 

They fell into a comfortable silence that lasted until curfew came and they had to return to their dormitory. 

“Nev,” Harry put his hand on Neville’s shoulder to stop his walk toward the castle. “I just want to thank you. For tonight. I really needed this.” 

“Same, mate,” Neville commented, clapping Harry on the back before continuing his trek to the castle. 

That night, Harry found the strength to climb into the bed next to Draco as usual. He was so grateful to Neville for their talk earlier. Without that catharsis, things might be awkward between him and Draco. But, as it stood, Harry was able to keep repeating “but I won’t” in his mind. His mantra for how he was going to deal with this crush. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The nightmare came on strong, totally enveloping all of Harry’s senses. He was gasping for breath, unable to breath under the rush of terror coursing through his veins. He knew he was just dreaming, yet he couldn’t wake himself. He was trapped in an unending onslaught of the worst moments of his life. All of the people he couldn’t save. All of the fear of a year spent on the run compacted into one nightmare. He felt the pain of Voldemort’s Avada Kedavra hitting him in the chest again. Only this time, there was no train station, no Dumbledore to soothe him. Just pain and fear and guilt and anguish. 

“HARRY!” He startled awake, finally breaking free of the torment. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. He was in the 8th year dorm. He was at Hogwarts. He was safe. He glanced to his right. He was with Draco. 

Draco was looking down at him, so worried that it nearly broke Harry’s heart. He laid back and took deep breaths, trying to bring his pulse back to normal. Draco pushed some of the sweat-stuck hair back from Harry’s forehead and then rubbed his arm soothingly. “It’s okay, Harry. You’re safe. You’re alive. You’re okay.” Draco continued a steady stream of soothing words. 

They almost worked, too. Harry didn’t feel terrified anymore, now he just felt guilty. Fred. Tonks. Lupin. Colin Creevey. Lavender Brown. All dead. He didn’t save them in time. He could see the Weasley’s crying over Fred’s body. He could feel the heartbreak of seeing the look on George’s face that day. Of seeing Molly, who loved so fiercely and deeply, so broken. He couldn’t help it, he began sobbing. Uncontrollable tears of grief and anger and guilt and frustration came pouring out. 

Beside him, Draco looked bewildered. Like he had never expected Harry to cry. For a moment, he was still, stunned. Then, to Harry’s surprise, Draco pulled Harry half on top of him and held him. Harry’s sobs only increased. He let it all out. He mourned for all of them. He had never allowed himself to fully feel the sorrow. But now, safe in Draco’s arms, he processed all of it. It was both horrible and absolutely lovely at the same time. It was much needed. 

After several minutes of Harry bawling his eyes out and Draco holding him and whispering soothing words into his ear, Harry began to calm down. He could feel Draco relax underneath him, relieved that Harry was no longer in such pain. 

Harry took a few seconds to compose himself before opening his eyes and looking Draco in the eye. “Thanks,” he said shyly, not sure if it was enough in that moment. 

“I’ve been there, too, Harry. It’s okay. It’s good for you. Crying, I mean. It can be helpful, in a way.” Draco was babbling, as though he was unsure if he was saying the right thing. 

“Yeah…I think it was. In a weird way,” he sniffed. “Oh, sorry! I must look wretched!” He tried to laugh it off, but Draco just shook his head.

“You look fine, Harry. Don’t worry. I won’t judge you based on how you look. I’ll judge you based on how much of an insufferable prat you’re being!” he teased, making Harry laugh. Draco stilled beneath him and, slowly, reached up and used the sleeve of his pyjamas to wipe Harry’s cheeks dry. “You better now?” Harry nodded, unable to breath. He had never expected such tenderness from Draco. It only made Harry love him more. “Good. I’m glad.” Draco smile sweetly at Harry. “You okay to go back to sleep or do you want to stay up and talk?” 

“No… I think… I need to sleep. I think… Err, I mean. I don’t want to talk. I don’t think I could sleep, though. But I just…” Harry couldn’t describe how torturous it would be to stay awake chatting when the only things he could think about were all the people he didn’t save and how much he loved being held in Draco’s arms. Neither of those were topics Harry wanted to discuss. 

“Would you mind if I told you one of my stories? The kind of story I used to make up for the Slytherins when they wanted entertained?” Harry nodded, starting to shift over to his own side of the bed. But Draco wrapped his arms more tightly him, preventing him from moving. “If you think I’m going to let you go after that horrendous nightmare and gut-wrenching aftermath, you’re insane, Harry Potter! You will stay here, safe in my arms, where no nightmare can ever get to you again, and you will sleep soundly for the rest of the night.” Harry was taken aback. And very turned on. Who knew Draco had a protective side? A very hot protective side. Gods, this was not helping Harry’s crush dissipate. 

“Okay… yeah. That would be nice,” Harry managed to stammer out. 

“Good. Now, you relax while I regale you with a story from the best imagination anyone has ever possessed!” Draco sounded like his old, haughty self. It made Harry smile. And snuggle just a little closer. He rested his head on Draco’s shoulder and sighed contentedly. “Once upon a time”... 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Harry awoke the next morning, feeling more well-rested than he had in years. He sighed contentedly before realizing that there was a warmth underneath him. Slowly, the memory of last night came back to him. He opened his eyes in horror, realizing that he was not only still wrapped in Draco’s arms, but that he had a very serious situation going on at his midsection. Morning wood was never an issue. That’s why bathrooms and muffliatos existed. But now, he was pressed against Draco’s body and he was sure, if Draco was awake, that he knew exactly what was going on. He looked up slowly, hoping against hope that Draco was still asleep. Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Draco was, indeed, still fast asleep. Well, at least that was one bit of luck. Now what to do about his current predicament. 

Harry tried to roll away, but Draco’s grip was iron tight. So he pulled his hips back and at least put some space between his hips and Draco’s leg. It wouldn’t do to have Draco wake up and realize that Harry was hard as a rock beside him. He tried to pull away, but he couldn’t get free without Draco waking up. So Harry resigned himself to having to will his erection away, rather than go take care of it in the bathroom. 

He thought of his Uncle Vernon, stuffing custard creams into his mouth like the glutton he was. He thought of McGonagall and the severe look she gave whenever he had been late to class or in trouble. He thought of Potions class and his many lackluster assignments. He thought of his first ride on the Knight Bus and how crazy he’d thought it had been. He thought about nearly drowning in that frozen lake and Ron pulling him out before it was too late. The memory of the icy water was enough to return to him his normal state. He sighed in relief. 

Now that his problem was gone, he could revel in the feeling of being held by Draco. And revel he did. It was another hour before Draco woke up. In that time, Harry had managed to imagine all of the different ways he might tell Draco how he felt. And all of the different ways Draco would respond. 

They had started out with terrible reactions: Draco punching him, Draco walking away and never speaking to him again, Draco hexing him. 

But then Harry let himself dwell on the positive reactions. On Draco surging forward and kissing him. On Draco laughing and shouting, “Finally!” before snogging him senseless. On Draco dropping to one knee and proposing on the spot. 

And Harry imagined what life with Draco would be like. What living together would be like. What sharing a bed together would be like. He didn’t let his mind wander to what other things they might do in bed. But he imagined contented, slow mornings, like this one, where he could just be with Draco and not worry about the world around them. It was a lovely daydream. 

He was stirred out of it by Draco finally waking up. He purred contentedly before giving Harry a little squeeze and whispering, “I could get used to this, Harry. I haven’t slept so soundly in ages! Imagine how much better my grades will be when I’m well-rested. Hermione’s going to be gobsmacked!” He chuckled. While it was lovely to hear that Draco was happy to sleep cuddled up, it broke Harry’s heart to hear that it was only because he slept well and not because he liked cuddling Harry. He simply nodded weakly. “You all right?” Draco looked at him with concern. 

“Yeah. Fine.” Harry lied. He forced a dazzling smile, which he was sure didn’t actually fool Draco. “Just hungry, I suppose.” 

“Same!” Draco replied, releasing Harry and stretching. Harry scooted over to his side of the bed and stretched as well. He got out of the bed and padded off to the bathroom, leaving Draco still lying there contentedly. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Harry couldn’t face trying to soldier through breakfast with this newfound melancholy. So he dodged the Great Hall and headed for the kitchens. He needed to pay a visit to this house elf friends anyway. He hadn’t seen them since he’d popped in to say hello during the first week back. He felt guilty for spending so long away from them. 

They, of course, greeted him with enthusiasm. And he spent a lovely morning chatting with them and enjoying their company. 

Before he left, he asked them to make him a picnic lunch, which they were all too happy to do. Well, that would sort him until dinner at least. By then, surely he would feel better and have the energy to put on a good face and pretend like he wasn’t desperately in love with his former enemy. 

He found ways throughout the day to avoid all of his friends. Luckily, since there were so few 8th years, most of their classes were with 7th years. So Harry made excuses to sit with students he didn’t know very well and get to know them. Which would have been nice in its own way, had he not being doing this as a way to avoid his longing for Draco. 

And yet, despite his efforts, his eyes always found his friend. In every class. In the halls. Even in the library when Harry tried to duck in there for a pre-dinner study session. The pale blond hair and beautiful smile seemed to be everywhere today. It didn’t help Harry’s mood. 

Which is why Harry found himself in the Astronomy Tower at dinner time. He had sent a note to the house elves to bring his dinner there and they were all too happy to oblige. He sat at one of the windows, looking at the lovely view and trying to figure out how he would explain his absence at all meals to his friends. He came up with nothing that would be convincing and resigned himself to trying to ignore them the rest of the night. 

As it turned out, he didn’t need to. Draco had explained away his absence by telling the others that Harry had experienced one of the worst nightmares yet and had confided in Draco that he felt dreadful and wanted to be alone that day. Harry was grateful for the cover up. He only wished he’d discovered it earlier in the day, so he hadn’t spent the whole evening hiding alone. It wasn’t until he’d come to bed at nearly 1 in the morning that Draco had explained how he’d covered for Harry and how he understood Harry’s need to be alone. 

‘Oh, but if you truly did understand it, you wouldn’t be reaching your arms out to me to cuddle again tonight,’ Harry thought. He sat down on the bed and rolled into Draco’s waiting arms. Both happy and sad to be there. 

‘But I won’t tell him!’ he repeated in his head over and over until he fell asleep. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Days continued like this. Harry was in a funk and didn’t know how to get past it. Ron and Hermione were their usual supportive selves, staying close by but not prying too much. Although Harry could tell that Hermione wanted to. But he supposed Ron kept her from pressing for information. Draco seemed distant and confused, barely even trying to talk to Harry. Only Neville and Luna seemed to understand why Harry’s mood was so dark lately. But they said nothing, ever the loyal friends. 

Pansy and Blaise seemed too focused on trying to get Draco to cheer up to even notice Harry was in the doldrums. And Harry was too in the doldrums to realize that, the longer he remained there, the more Draco’s mood matched his own. 

It wasn’t until nine days after the crying episode that Harry realized that Draco wasn’t himself. Harry came to bed as usual, but Draco wasn’t waiting for him with his arms open. Instead, he was turned on his side, facing away from Harry. Harry scooted up to Draco’s back and wrapped his arms around him. Draco tensed. 

“You okay, Draco?” Harry asked softly. 

“Yeah… I wasn’t expecting… I thought you were mad at me,” Draco confessed. 

“No! Never! Why would I be mad at you?” Harry inquired. 

“Because I pulled you into my arms and cuddled you all night. And the next day, you seemed like you couldn’t wait to escape in the morning. And you avoided me all day. Then, that night, I offered to cuddle again and you seemed like you didn’t want to. Like you were only doing so out of kindness but you really wanted to tell me to sod off. I thought we were becoming good friends, but you’ve been pulling away lately. I figured you hated me for crossing some line.” Draco sounded so sad, so small. Almost like he’d been the first night he’d arrived at Hogwarts. Harry hated it. 

“Draco! I’m not mad at you. And I wasn’t pulling away. I’ve been… going through some complicated emotions lately and I’ve been so lost in my own head that I’ve neglected everyone around me. But I’m not upset with you, I promise.” At this, Draco rolled over to face Harry. This close, mere inches apart, it was difficult for Harry to restrain himself. He wanted to close those last few inches and let their lips meet and give in to temptation. But he was sure he would end up with a black eye or worse. So he fought back his feelings. Again. 

“So I didn’t cross a line by cuddling you last week?” Draco asked.

“Not at all. I slept well that night.” Harry faked a smile.

“So did I! Best sleep I’ve had in ages!” Draco replied, smiling a dazzling smile. This close, it was hard not to see the sheer beauty of it. Harry smiled back, a genuine smile this time. “I just thought you were mad at me because you didn’t want to cuddle with a bloke!” 

“Nah, it’s fine!” Harry lied. It wasn’t fine. It was lovely and adorable and everything he ever wanted. But Draco didn’t need to know that. 

“So it doesn’t bother you?” Draco clarified.

“Nope,” Harry lied. “Not at all.” 

“Good!” Draco responded, smiling again. He rolled onto his back and pulled Harry into their usual position. His arms wrapped tightly around Harry and he sighed contentedly. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I like having you on top of me. Your weight is so reassuring! And feeling your heartbeat against my ribs, it makes me feel peaceful.” 

If only Draco knew how his every word was breaking Harry’s heart. He didn’t want Draco to be reassured and peaceful. Well, he did! But he also wanted Draco to be in love, to be aroused, to desire Harry in the ways that Harry desired him. 

But, like Harry had always sacrificed himself for others, he would let Draco cuddle him close so he could sleep soundly, no matter how much it hurt Harry to do so. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The first term was nearly over and the Christmas hols were rapidly approaching. Harry didn’t know how he was going to sleep without Draco to cuddle up to. He had gotten so used to their nightly ritual that he was sure he wouldn’t sleep a wink without him! 

Harry had managed to find a way to cope for the past two months. Between Luna’s knowing looks and long talks confiding in Neville, Harry had found a way to acknowledge his feelings and process them without falling into a depression again. But no amount of gentle prodding from Neville could convince Harry to tell Draco how he felt. 

They had all been at a party that was being thrown in the Great Hall, but Harry had slipped out. Unnoticed, he had thought. But it seemed Neville had been watching him closely all night. Neville had followed him to their room and had cast several spells on the door to keep the others from entering while he and Harry had a heart to heart. “You’re so sure he doesn’t feel the same way?” Neville asked for what seemed like hundredth time.

“Yes!” Harry responded forcefully. He was absolutely sure of it. 

“Look, Harry, I’m not going to tell you how to live your life or what to do! But I really don’t think Draco would end your friendship over feelings.” 

“Maybe. But he won’t want to cuddle anymore. And that’s the only way I can sleep these days. Wrapped in his arms is the only place where the nightmares stay away and I feel safe!” Harry protested. 

“Will you listen to yourself, mate?” Neville said emphatically but not unkindly. “You bloody cuddle every night! He’s told you that he can’t sleep without you in his arms! He’s said that underneath you is his favorite place to be. Does that sound like something someone who is just a friend says?! Did you ever cuddle with Ron? Is underneath Hermione your favorite place to be?” 

“No…but…” Harry scrambled for any retort.

“But what?” Neville sighed and softened his tone. “Harry, he might not realize it, but he loves you, too.” 

“He doesn’t,” Harry protested weakly, sitting down on his trunk at the end of Draco’s bed and putting his head in his hands. Neville sat opposite him, on Luna’s trunk, and reached a comforting hand out, placing it on Harry’s shoulder and causing Harry to look up. 

“He does,” Neville refuted him gently. “I am definitely not a macho man, but even I’ve never cuddled a friend. Let alone every night for months. Harry, you’ve told me that he dries your tears, that he pushed your hair back from your face, that he stares into your eyes sometimes. That’s not friendship, mate, that’s love. Even if he doesn’t realize it.” 

“But what if he does?!” Harry held back tears.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Neville shook his head. 

“What if he loves me and is afraid to say it? I mean, think about everything that being together would mean. His family would never approve. He’d be forced into an arranged marriage, for sure. It would be an absolute scandal and the Prophet would have a field day! The boy who lived and an ex-Death Eater in love but unable to be together! Wouldn’t that be so much worse? To know he loves me and to still not be with him?!” 

“Why are you so damn convinced that it won’t work out?” Neville shouted at him, for once losing his cool. 

“Because it never does!” Harry shouted back, standing up and rising to the fight that he had picked with his friend. Harry knew Neville didn’t deserve this, but he was hurting so damn much and he just needed to get it all out. “It’s never worked out for us! We both wanted to be friends when we first met, but we totally had the wrong idea about the other and wound up being enemies instead! I wanted to help him in 6th year, to save him from the twisted plot that Voldemort had gotten him into and, instead, I almost killed him! I can never have what I want with him! Ever! It never works out! And it won’t work out this time and he’ll marry some pureblood witch and produce heirs and I’ll die alone and longing and miserable!” Harry collapsed to the floor, sobbing. 

Instead of coming to comfort him, Neville went over to the door, muttered the counter curses, and walked out. Harry couldn’t believe it! Here was his friend, who had been so loyal to him for so long, walking out on him when he needed him the most. Harry lay crumpled on the floor, unable to stop the sobs being wrenched from him. 

“Harry?!” Came Malfoy’s concerned voice. He ran through the door, followed by Neville. 

‘Ah,’ Harry thought, ‘Neville hadn’t abandoned me. He went to get help. Gods, I don’t deserve Neville’s friendship!’ 

Draco practically dove to the floor and pulled Harry into his lap, holding him from behind and rocking him. “What happened?!” Draco looked up to Neville in confusion. 

“Harry, I’m going to tell him,” Neville warned. 

“Go ahead! I’m already at my lowest! It can’t possibly get any worse than this!” Harry tried to shout, his voice strained and barely intelligible through his blubbering. 

Neville sighed heavily and sat back down on Luna’s trunk. “You’re an absolute moron, Harry!” 

“Neville!” Draco shouted, incredulous that Neville would ever say an unkind word about his friend. 

“Well, he is!” Neville shot back. That fire of the man who had defended Harry in death and who had slayed Nagini was back. Neville, the man afraid of no one. “He’s an absolute prat and I’m sick of watching him ruin his own life! He loves you, you idiot! He’s been in love with you for years, though he only just realized it a few months ago. And cuddling with you every night is killing him but he’s too damn stubborn to tell you how he feels, even though I’m fairly certain you feel the same way! And he can only see the negative. He can only see this ending badly. And it’s tearing him up inside! He needs to know how much you love him, Draco. He needs to hear it from you because I’m bloody sick of watching the two of you dance around each other and not say a damn word!” 

With that, Neville stomped off and out the door. If Harry hadn’t been so sure that his life was about to come crashing down around him, he would’ve been shocked that Neville would ever be so rude to friends. Neville was the kind, reliable one. If it weren’t for his fits of fiery bravery, Harry would think Neville belonged in Hufflepuff, not Gryffindor. 

“You… you love me?” Draco asked, leaning around Harry and trying to look him in the eyes.

“Fucking Neville,” Harry muttered angrily. “Yes, okay? I love you. Is it so bloody difficult to fathom that I might have feelings for you?” He tried to pull away but Draco held him in a vice-like embrace.

“Don’t do this, Harry,” Draco said calmly. “Don’t pick a fight. You’re only trying to upset me and drive me away. And I won’t let you,” he pulled Harry tighter to him and held his hand on Harry’s chest. His other hand slid down Harry’s arm and interlaced their fingers. “Why do you think this would end badly?” Draco whispered into Harry’s ear.

“Because,” Harry went slack, giving in to the inevitable conversation that they needed to have, “you’re straight. And you’re expected to marry some pureblood witch and produce heirs. And you hate me.” 

“Oh, sure,” Draco tried not to respond with sarcasm, but it was too ingrained in him, “I hate you. Of course! Because I always ask people I hate to stay with me when I have nightmares. And I pour out my life story to my enemies all the time! And I pull my nemeses into my arms and cuddle with them every night. I always tell people I loathe how much I need them and how being in their presence is the only thing that soothes me.” He chuckled and shook his head. “If you think I hate you, you obviously haven’t been listening to me.” 

“But you don’t love me.” 

“But I do,” Draco replied. “I love you so much, you stupid prat! I have for years! Why do you think I was so awful to you? I knew that getting a rise out of you would get your attention. So I did whatever it took to get you to notice me.” 

“But… why didn’t you tell me? This year, I mean. Since we’ve become friends.” Harry asked quietly, almost inaudibly. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Draco countered cooly. 

“I was afraid. I didn’t want to ruin our newfound friendship. Not after achieving something I’d longed for for years. I didn’t want to ruin things,” Harry explained. 

“Ditto, dummy.” They both chuckled. 

“Gods, am I the biggest idiot on the planet or what?!” Harry laughed, relaxing back into and letting their bodies touch from shoulders to hips. Draco wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist to pull him in even closer. 

“We are both idiots,” Draco replied. 

“I should’ve told you when I realized it.” Harry commented, his voice normalizing again. 

“Let’s not focus on the should’ves. We have far too many of those in our lives, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah,” Harry said. 

Draco released his hold on Harry so that he could turn around. They came face to face, grinning like morons at one another for a moment before Draco leaned forward to close the distance between them. 

“Mmmm,” Draco hummed, pulling back just slightly. “We should’ve done that years ago.” 

“That certainly would’ve changed things.” Harry replied. He leaned back in for another kiss, but pulled back almost instantly. 

“Grr,” Draco growled. “Tease!” 

“Sorry!” Harry said as Draco began trailing kisses across his cheeks and down his jawline. “But… are you not straight?!” 

“Obviously,” Draco drawled, affecting his old tone, as he continued to trail kisses over Harry’s neck. He sucked lightly, not enough to leave a mark but enough to show Harry that he really was gay and really did want him. 

“Oh…I thought…” 

“You think too much, Potter. Shut up and kiss me back!” 

“Or what?” Harry leveled the challenge at him. 

“Or I’ll have my way with you!” Draco threatened. 

“Then I am definitely not kissing you back! I want you to have your way with me!” Harry teased. 

“Shut up, you prat, and kiss me! Now!” Draco commanded. 

Harry leaned forward, pushing Draco back against Harry’s trunk, and climbed into his lap before kissing him passionately. His hands seemed to be everywhere and Draco felt drunk from the heady rush of it all. 

“Not that I’m not enjoying this,” Draco mumbled, pulling away from Harry, “but the bed would be far more comfortable!” 

“Agreed!” Harry said, but didn’t move. He continued kissing Draco and touching him everywhere he could. 

“Potter!” Dracco shouted, pushing Harry away. “You can’t fuck me if we’re on the floor! Now get your sexy arse on the bed before I force you there!” 

“Ooh! I like it when you get all bossy, Draco!” Harry responded, standing up and offering his hand to help Draco up. 

Eventually, they managed to make it to the bed, though it took several minutes of touching and kissing and stripping each other of clothes. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

“Oh dear Merlin!” Ron commented upon seeing Harry and Draco tangled up together, naked. Granted, they were covered with a blanket, so Ron wasn’t scarred by seeing any parts of their anatomy that he didn’t want to see. But he was still scarred from the mere thought of Harry and Draco naked together. 

“Dammit, Draco!” Harry commented, sleepily rolling off of Draco and turning to face Ron. “You forgot to cast the charms, didn’t you?” 

“Why is it always my responsibility?” Draco replied from behind him.

“Sorry, mate! We’re usually more careful! I guess we just forgot, with Draco leaving for Christmas and us being separated for a couple weeks,” Harry explained. 

“Usually?!” Ron’s voice rose about four octaves. “You mean this is a regular occurrence?!” 

“Oh, get over it, Ron!” Neville commented, having just emerged from the bathroom. “They’re two consenting adults! But, guys, please do more careful with the charms in the future, will you? Just because I hooked you up doesn’t mean I like looking at it!” He teased. 

“You hooked them up?!” Ron asked incredulously. “I’m surrounded by traitors!” 

“I don’t know how you never saw it before, Weasley!” Pansy shouted, pulling her pillow off of her head and looking pissy about being woken up. “Those two have been pining for each other for years. It was sickening, honestly.” She slammed her pillow back over her head and rolled away to try to get some sleep. 

“Oh, shite!” Blaise commented, rolling over and seeing what all of the fuss was about. “I owe Pans twenty galleons! Man!” 

“You bet on our sex life?!” Harry gaped at them. 

“No!” Blaised replied, pretending to gag at the mention of their sex life. “I bet that you two wouldn’t get together until graduation. Pansy said you’d be together before Christmas.” 

“Bloody Slytherins!” Harry said without malice. Blaise chuckled and got up to get ready for the day. 

“Harry, get your sexy ass back over to my side of the bed and into my arms, now!” Draco commanded from behind him. 

“Always so bossy!” Harry teased, rolling back over and cuddling up to Draco’s side. 

“Oh gods, you two are going to be disgusting, aren’t you?” Ron commented. 

“Disgustingly adorable and in love!” Hermione retorted, emerging from the bathroom all ready to go. “Honestly, Ronald, you haven’t even showered yet? Get a move on or we’ll be late to your parents house!” She swatted him on the behind and sent him into the bathroom to get ready. “Harry, Draco, I’m happy for you, honestly I am, but please do remember to cast your charms in the future. I don’t fancy waking up and hearing you guys again like I did last night.” 

“You know you loved it, Granger,” Draco teased, secretly relieved that Harry’s friends weren’t cursing him right now. 

“You forget to cast your charms and I’ll conveniently forget to cast mine and Ron’s.” She folded her arms and leveled Draco with a look that shut him up immediately. 

“Well played, Hermione!” Blaise commented. 

“Where are Luna and Neville?” Hermione asked, looking around. 

“Probably doing the same thing as Harry and I,” Draco commented, raising his head to look at their bed but seeing only empty beds.

“Except with their charms in place,” Harry replied, kissing Draco on the cheek and returning his attention back to Harry. 

“Soppy idiots,” Hermione said lightly before heading toward the door. “Tell Ron I went to breakfast without him, to get away from you two!” 

“Will do, Mione!” Harry replied as Hermione exited. 

“Well,” Draco’s surprised word drew Harry’s attention, “neither of them hexed me. I’d say that went extremely well!” 

“Better than I imagined, that’s for sure!” 

“Mmm hmm,” Draco agreed before pulling Harry into another kiss. Harry just managed to grab his wand and wordlessly cast the charms before things heated up between them again.


End file.
